


Age Quod Agis

by circlemarriesline



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 00:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7131065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circlemarriesline/pseuds/circlemarriesline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicole Haught is alone at the station under a mountain of paperwork. She finishes her day fantasising about one Waverly Earp, who then invites her to the homestead. Set post 1x09 and pre 1x10. Smut alert, some feelings, idk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Age Quod Agis

**Author's Note:**

> **Update: new multi-chapter fic in the works, thanks to all the amazing feedback. You all rock!**
> 
>  
> 
> "What is the one most important thing our society needs?"  
> "That would be harsher penalties for parole violators, Stan."  
> [crowd is silent]  
> "And more WayHaught fic!"  
> [crowd goes wild]

Leaning back to reach the desk behind her, the standard-issue swivel chair groaning in protest, Nicole let her fingertips wander to the case file, gently walked her index and middle fingers along its cover until they curled around a corner. Nicole’s body reacted with pleasure to the stretch, having been hunched at her desk for most of the afternoon. Her eyes notice the clock above the door reading about 5:50pm. Ten minutes to go before the end of her shift. She held the extended position for a few extra seconds and repeated the move with her other arm before sliding the file onto her lap. She extended her legs out under her desk, making sure to engage each muscle group. The blood began to return and she regained some energy with a few deep breaths. Looking up and bringing a hand to her fatigued eyes to momentarily shield them from the fluorescent lighting, Nicole lamented her short stack of reports ready to submit. Not only were the bizarre and unexplained events of the last few months chewing up time and resources on the ground in Purgatory, but they also meant that the police station’s desks threatened to buckle under all the paperwork. Today’s docket featured reports of several fires breaking out around town, all dated within the last three months, but none of the scenes contained enough evidence to determine the cause, severity, or duration of the blazes. No property had been damaged, despite a few reportedly occurring in barns and homes. No scorched earth. No suspects. No evidence. No leads. The single thread stringing these incidents together, and the only reason not to relegate the calls to the hoax bin, was that every person who called in a report claimed to hear a single gunshot before smelling smoke. She was no grizzled veteran, but Nicole knew there was more to the story than what she was digging up. 

Purgatory’s small town status certainly did not prevent the reckless abandon with which the folks there got into trouble. Kidnappings, deaths, the patently unfunny trailer park boys, not to mention the Black Badge Division’s antics whenever classified cases sprung up, whatever those were. She had to swallow her resentment whenever Dolls and Wynonna tossed around the kind of tactical gear her budget-conscious Sheriff’s Department could only dream of owning and ran out the door without her. Given the chance, she would join them without a second thought. It felt like they had an endgame in mind, whereas Nicole had begun to feel like she was in the way more than anything. At least working the local beat kept her sharp and allowed her to venture out of the station regularly. 

She lingered on the thought of her morning patrols, seeing Waverly unlock the front door of Shorty’s and slip inside. She smiled to herself, a faint blush rising on her cheeks when she thought about her first encounter with the youngest Earp at the bar. Nicole had been all charm, dimples, and moves with her Stetson, but Waverly had stunned her with that sunny disposition and devious smile. Still did, though Nicole thoroughly enjoyed her moments of loyal fury. She made a mental note to ask Waves if she wanted to lock her shotgun in the station’s gun locker. Her gut said that would be a hard pass, but she’d mention it anyway. The paper wall forming before her testified to the need for some gun control in this town. Her unkempt desk was also a grim reminder that she was making little headway on her more unruly cases. She spun her chair fully around once, letting the room spin and those very distracting memories of Waverly retreat until she faced her desk, her unfocused eyes finding the same open pages for the hundredth time. She realized she was getting nowhere. Sighing heavily and arching her back, Nicole dropped the file on an existing stack with a thunk. It was time for a break. 

She recalled a day at the academy not so long ago when one of her instructors impressed upon the group of new recruits that, “sitting on your asses all day will kill you just the same as a bullet, only slower.” Sergeant Morimoto often spoke with these quips, a habit Nicole had also picked up somewhere along the line, for which Wynonna razzed her regularly. Sarge was well-respected by both recruits and her fellow instructors and could often be found sharing her wealth of knowledge with her students well after classes ended each day. She cared about cultivating the most responsible, well-equipped officers that she could. Mental health first aid was her most ultilised tool and the first module in her Communication unit. Disarming manoeuvres had to be crisp, swift, and performed without hesitation. She had the class practice on each other and taught them to act with poise under pressure. Lethal force was only to be deployed under the most dire of circumstances; no more “shoot first, ask questions later” business. Detect, de-escalate, disarm. Detect, de-escalate, disarm. The tools she taught her recruits would save lives on both sides of the thin blue line. She was moulding a generation of cops she wished she had worked with in the field. 

Nicole had idolised her, definitely. Crushed on her? Also definitely. Most of all, Nicole wanted to be the kind of cop Sarge was: sharp, attentive, eager to listen, willing to serve. 

“Haught,” Sarge had once said in a quiet moment leaving the gun range, “you’re already a good cop. The thing that’s keeping you from being a great cop is learning how to pick your battles.” Nicole had paused in the doorway and looked back at her mentor, head cocked and brows furrowed, looking for a hint. Sarge had strode forward and put a lean hand on her shoulder, guiding her through the doorway. “Take on fewer challenges and give them everything you’ve got. You won’t get anywhere trying to do everything all at once.” 

A few weeks later, Nicole nearly sent a rogue tortellino flying from her mouth when Ron Swanson gave a curt version of Sarge’s words on _Parks and Recreation_ : “Don’t half-ass two things. Whole-ass one thing.” With her seemingly endless ambition, she had wondered then if she would ever be content to put anything on the back burner. 

Her first few exchanges with Waverly Earp proved that there was something between them. What that something was, Nicole wasn’t sure, though she knew very well her own intentions. She wanted to relationship the hell out of her, and she was well past the point of no return. Every batted eyelash and outstretched hand had her skin tingling and her pulse quickening. Every night, the insides of her eyelids played clips of them making breakfast together, belting out their favourite songs on a road trip, and mapping each other’s bodies with their hands and their mouths. She had been there before with the chemistry and the tension. It was her, once upon a time, hesitant to ask herself what her feelings really meant. She wanted more time then, but didn’t get it. She wanted to feel in control of her body in such a vulnerable state, but she didn’t quite feel like she had it. Nicole had promised herself and each of her future partners, silently, that she would never act in a way that would make them feel uncomfortable or unsafe. So pursuing Waverly, who remained a warm buzz in Nicole’s chest and occasionally between her legs, went on the back burner. _When she’s ready._

The agonising flirtation-from-afar-stolen-glances-unfortunate-miscommunication game with Waverly, who was spending more and more time at the station, much to Nicole’s delight, had come to a head two weeks earlier. The heat between them was palpable and continued to be, now with raised stakes since the two were liable to take advantage of empty offices, stairwells, and other semi-private locations to express their affections. Sheriff Nedley’s office had taken on a particularly symbolic quality after having been the setting for not only their first kiss, but their first near-miss thanks to Wynonna, and that steamy evening two nights ago that Nicole thought only happened in the movies, with roaming hands leaving scratches on backs and fingers sneaking under waistbands, open mouths and urgent whispers. Neither she nor Waves could look at the Sheriff’s couch the same way again. 

Yet another rise in temperature arrived from under her collar at the flashes of Waverly’s hungry eyes raking her over in the shadow of the setting sun, this time the memory accompanied by radiating heat and a twinge of desire from within her uniform pants. At this, Nicole smiled, pushed herself away from her desk, and rose from her chair. She knew very well that she wasn’t about to rid Purgatory of crime tonight, so she locked up her service weapon, slid into her coat, and composed a brief text: _Just got off work. Want me to get you off, too?_ Nope, too brazen. She leaned on the backspace key and grinned to herself. Only Waverly Earp could bring this kind of talk out of her. New message: _Leaving the station now, feel like a bite?_ That was better. Perfectly innocent, but could be repurposed later. Sent. In the thirty seconds she took to leave her desk, walk through the reception area, greet the incoming officer with a smile and a soft “hey,” and put the key in her car’s ignition, there were two replies waiting to be opened. 

_As long as ur open to being the one bitten ;)_

_Come over, Wynonna’s out for the night_

Nicole felt her blood pressure rise. Her ears were hot and her heart was suddenly hammering in her temples. She hadn’t expected the unbridled enthusiasm that Waverly brought when they first got together, but this visceral reaction she was having had started then and had not let up since. Waverly did something to Nicole that slowed time around them. The sun shone brighter. She hadn’t realised prairie winters smelled so good. Each morning they greeted the dawn together from a shared bed offered the promise of another surprising, beautiful, terrifying day. 

The car nearly drove itself out to the Earp homestead as Nicole tried to calm her racing heart. No luck. She didn’t even notice the dark SUV carrying Dolls and Wynonna barrelling down the two-lane highway, headed in the opposite direction. 

Pulling onto Earp land, she flung the gear shift into park and floated up to the front steps, feet barely touching the packed snow beneath them. Her boots fell with heavy beats on the porch. A steady plume of Nicole’s warm breath billowed into the sky above her head after a long exhale. She raised a knuckle to knock, but the door flew open before she made contact and two tiny arms reached out to pull her inside by the sleeves of her coat. She was pressed firmly against the door to close it behind them. 

“Hey you,” Waverly said playfully, a mischievous smirk dancing over her face as her hands found the front of Nicole’s thick utility belt. 

“Hey,” said Nicole, extending the vowel sound and resigning herself with pleasure to being pushed around by her smaller partner. Nicole felt a tug at her waist and she pushed her hips forward, grinning at Waverly’s boldness. Waverly, face to chest with Nicole, took a moment to appreciate the smooth cascade of uniform shirt over slightly exposed collarbones, breasts held in by what she knew was a simple black bra, and those hips that teased her mercilessly with their cocky waggle. 

Both hands brushed over snaps, pockets, and police insignia. She paused briefly to fiddle with the snaps on the breast pockets of Nicole’s shirt and softly palm the boobs she couldn’t believe she waited so long to really appreciate. Waverly held them, furrowed her brow, pursed her lips, and nodded in approval as though she was appraising fruit. Nicole rolled her eyes in faux disbelief, unable to contain a laugh. 

Small hands were finally finding their way back up and making space between Nicole’s shoulders and the arms of her jacket. It slipped off easily and fell to the floor when Nicole straightened her arms and rolled her shoulders. Waverly’s devious smile never faded as she continued to assess Nicole, whose mouth was agape and uttering soft noises of approval. Dancing up on her playfully, Waverly ran a finger along Nicole’s cheek then turned around, lowering herself, sticking her butt out and never breaking contact with Nicole’s body, and her arms rose seductively above her head. Nicole registered soft music playing from speakers in the kitchen, but was too transfixed by whatever was happening in front of her to identify anything further.

 _That ass, honestly._ Nicole couldn’t remember a time when she felt comfortable watching someone sexy-dance for her, but this felt different. It was different for both of them. She had watched her girlfriend - _that felt nice to say_ \- gain endless confidence over the last few weeks. Going from admitting she didn’t know where to start in a relationship with another woman, to this, confidently expressing her sexuality in a way that was so full of life and joy, Nicole beamed at the way Waverly had approached some of her worries about inexperience.  
“You’ve probably done this a million times,” she had said, prostrate on Nicole’s couch with her head in her lap as movie credits rolled on the first night she spent there.  
“Done what?”  
“This…adult relationship…thing.”  
“Are you saying your relationship with Champ didn’t have two adults in it?” Nicole said sarcastically. That one garnered an eye roll.  
“You know what I mean. A relationship with someone I actually like, who likes me back, who’s a woman and has been with other women before, and I’m just this…” Waverly searched for a descriptor, gesticulating wildly. “This bi bi baby!”  
A barking laugh jumped from Nicole’s throat at the unmistakably Waverly moment.  
“Sorry,” she said, “I know you’re being serious.” Nicole composed herself and tilted her head to look Waverly square in the face. “Despite my very effective means of flirtation, believe me when I tell you I haven’t done this much.” She waited a beat and backtracked. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done okay for myself, you know, with the ladies-” She cut herself off. “This is not helping. Okay.” She took a breath and laid a reassuring hand on Waverly’s head. “You’re right, I do like you. A lot. And I’m a woman who’s been with other women. But you, you’re this brilliant badass who’s figuring her shit out and I just wanna be there while you do it, okay?” That drew a smile from Waverly. Nicole leaned down, placed a tender kiss on Waverly’s lips, and said quietly, “We both have stuff to learn - from each other. No one’s telling us how to do this but us.”  
They gazed thoughtfully at each other for a moment, until Waverly sat up, already back to her confident self.  
“So I was researching how women actually, you know, _do it_ , and there are way more options than I was expecting.”  
“What were you expecting?”  
“I don’t know, scissoring and strap-ons?” Again, Nicole had to suppress a wild cackle.  
“Listen, rookie,” she joked, feigning the voice of a weathered sports coach, “there are lotsa ways to play this game, but some ways work better than others.”

Nicole’s heart warmed at the memory, but the rest of her was focused on the sight of Waverly casually dancing before her, proving for maybe the millionth time how lucky she was to have ended up in that strange town. 

Waverly shook out her loose hair and it brushed the front of Nicole’s shirt on its way by. She watched those Earp legs move with poise and strength through a spin into which Waverly pulled her like a pro. As Waverly released her from the move, she sent a stray hand up Nicole’s inseam and it settled for a fleeting moment over her already-sensitive vulva, giving it a little pressure from over the thick uniform pants. Another hand explored the corridor between her chin and her open shirt collar. Nicole could feel her entire body come alive, every inch of skin begging for contact. Fine hairs on her lower back prickled with anticipation. The hands all over her caused blood to rush downward once more and she found herself achingly aroused. She removed her Stetson and hung it on the doorknob.

They liked to play this slow burn game now, since a few heated encounters early on had nearly resulted in getting busted at the station. In their haste to relieve some of their sexual tension, doors had been left open and blinds left undrawn, rendering their private moments rather public. These slow, deliberate moves not only ensured the space was theirs alone, but they increased the natural magnetism between the two of them by prolonging the tense anticipation. Their pupils dilated when they made eye contact. The earth continued to spin while they stood still. Tiny dust particles floated, unknowingly, in the glow between them. 

With wide eyes and an amazed half-smile that seemed to make her dimples cradle the evening’s last rays of sunlight in them, Nicole tried to form words but was met with a warm palm to each cheek. Waverly ceased her teasing and leaned her body into her, slid one hand down to the small of her back, eliciting a breathy moan, and snaked the other under an ear, up the nape of her neck, and into her braid, slowly pulling Nicole’s lips into hers. Like a switch had been flipped, electricity coursed through them; the circuit was complete. Their lips were the generators running power to lights behind their eyes and heat deep in their navels. Tongues were lightning: unpredictable, powerful, marvellous. Nicole felt Waverly growl into her mouth and nip at her bottom lip. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Nicole whispered, impossibly low, her hands wandering into the back pockets of Waverly’s well-worn jeans.

“Hopefully you in a little bit,” said Waverly, without missing a beat. Nicole’s underwear was soaked through and she resolved to get them off her body as soon as possible. Wordlessly, she reached down further and hoisted Waverly up so she could wrap her legs around her waist. Now at even height, Nicole found the eyes she’d daydreamed about earlier in the day. They carried Waverly’s volcanically intense gaze. Nicole felt like she was about to be consumed in every possible way. 

Two open mouths came together so deliberately, so hungrily, and with such urgency that anyone witnessing it would think they were keeping each other alive somehow. Strong arms supported Waverly’s body while a matching pair of legs carried both of them through a maze of kitchen chairs to the couch, where Nicole placed Waverly on her back and glanced up at her as she slid down to explore Waverly’s exposed chest under her flowing v-neck. 

“Is this okay?” Nicole asked, unaware that her mouth was tantalisingly close to finding a hard nipple, just millimetres away.  
“Wait,” said Waverly. Nicole froze with a pink flush from chest to cheeks, waiting for direction. Waverly, on her back, pulled the elastic band from the end of Nicole’s hair and placed it around her own wrist. She laced her fingers in at the temples and ran them through to unlock the braid, so diligently crafted each morning, that remained intact even without an anchor. Nicole leaned into the touch and helped shake out the stiff weave until her face was framed with soft red locks. She loved the way Waverly’s hands, no strangers to braids themselves, gently worked through each layer the way a baker kneads a delicate dough. Firm fingertips, even pressure, releasing tension with each stroke. She hummed with the pleasure of having Waverly take care of her this way. 

She had always felt a certain melancholy at the end of each shift, letting down her hair in front of her bathroom mirror. It would fall to her shoulders, just like today, but instead of having someone care for it with such a loving touch, she would leave it to fall atop one of many varsity basketball t-shirts and leave it at that. For Nicole, the process of releasing the braid had only served to remind her of the things she couldn’t do. It locked away her failures and her shortcomings each day in a profession where women were often the targets of microaggressions about their intellect or their strength or their value to the department. She had worked tirelessly to prove she belonged at her old precinct and was starting over again in Purgatory. Arrived early, stayed late, asked questions and took painstaking notes. She knew she was a good cop. Doing her job the way she did best was the only option. Sergeant Morimoto’s voice echoed in her ears in those moments. _Pick your battles. Do only as much as you can handle._ Nicole knew having the Earps and their cavalry as allies would keep her standing on her own two feet, no matter what sort of anarchy erupted in this town. She savoured the comfort of knowing she had found her people. 

Waverly beamed up at her. “Feel better?” she asked. Nicole, filled to the brim with gratitude, awe, and raw attraction, could only nod and refocus her attention on Waverly’s body before her. 

Settled between Waverly’s spread legs, Nicole did not get far. Collarbones dusted with heavy breaths and kisses, hands firmly installed around a perfect ass, but Waverly reached out, pushed Nicole back, and pinned her, palms to chest. They had both perfected this move soon after becoming an item. Neither wanted to give up the role of instigator, but they both agreed that the power bottom was just as unfairly sexy as as the classic top. Neither of them minded yielding some degree of power to appease the other’s appetite.

“This needs to go,” Waverly said of the bulky utility belt. She unclipped it herself, gestured for Nicole to raise her hips, and it fell away beside the couch. “You know what,” she continued, conversationally, while ensuring her hands never left Nicole’s taut stomach, “this can probably go as well.” Waverly ripped the blue uniform shirt clean open from bottom to top without hesitation. The snaps each made a satisfying _pop_ as they burst to reveal a black cotton tank top clinging to every curve Nicole had. She raised the bottom hem over Nicole’s head, threw both items across the room and admired the expanse of pasty, delicious skin she had uncovered. Waverly was right, there was a black bra under there.

Nicole smiled. “You’re the boss,” she said, savouring every moment of being Waverly’s conquest. 

Waverly staked her claim to Nicole’s neck immediately. Lean legs under denim rode Nicole’s gyrating hips and she felt the wetness in her pants grow. Hot breath in her ear made her toes curl. She was constantly amazed by the way Waverly seemed to know exactly what her body desired. That, and by the rhythmic exposure of abs between the top of her jeans and her loose shirt. Nicole brought her hands down from where they laid above her head to place one hand on Waverly’s hip, helping her grind down harder into her, the other hand tugged at the wide hem.  
“Waves, can I?” Nicole breathed. Waverly nodded and allowed her shirt to be discarded on the floor beside them.

Their bare stomachs pressed together when Waverly lowered herself back down to be face to face with Nicole, who was breathing heavily. Her mouth was open and beckoning for Waverly’s to meet it. She happily obliged. 

After a few heated minutes of the two women fusing together, sharing in mutually-assured gratification, tongues searching and hands reaching every available inch of each other’s bodies, Nicole couldn’t wait any longer. Nearly imperceptible words left her lips under the weight of an exhale.  
“Take my pants off.”  
Waverly’s deft fingers had popped the button and lowered the zipper before the last syllable reached her ears. She tugged at the fabric that clung to Nicole’s athletic thighs and pulled them down to her knees. They both noticed a pair of winter-issue boots standing between them and the kind of activities they had in mind.  
“Oh shit-“  
Waverly shushed her and started to wrestle them off. One by one they tumbled onto the hardwood, socks still inside, and two sets of giggles reacted to the ridiculousness of it all. Nicole propped herself up on her elbows and raised her ankles so Waverly could finish the job with a yank on the bottom of each pant leg. Waverly’s face transformed from an expression of amusement into an one of disbelief at the sight of Nicole’s body, now only clad in a bra and a pair of dark grey underwear. There was a beat between them.  
“What?” asked Nicole, playfully. Waverly looked down at her with a smile and shook her head.  
“This never gets old.”  
“Come here.” Nicole pulled her down gently and once Waverly had re-settled herself between her favourite set of leg, then paid some attention to Nicole’s lips and endless dimples, she began making her way south. 

Now stationed at the top of Nicole’s right bra cup, Waverly pulled it down and placed her mouth over the pink nipple. A few laps with her tongue and some suction elicited a long “oh” from Nicole’s lips and she knew she had the officer right where she wanted her. A free hand slid under Nicole’s back and her bra was free almost instantly.  
“Ugh, you’re such a natural,” said Nicole, between low moans. Waverly leaned in close so that her nose briefly grazed cheek and ear.  
“You should see my other tricks.”  
Nicole’s body buzzed and she took hold of the hand Waverly used to unhook her bra and guided it down to the crotch of her underwear which was no longer containing the slick beneath it.  
“Waves,” she said, “what are you gonna do about this?”  
She saw a blush sweep over Waverly’s face and felt the fingers she had led to the spot take on a life of their own, applying pressure in a slow, circular motion over the thin fabric.  
“You don’t need these anymore, do you?” Waverly asked with mocking innocence.  
“Nope,” was all Nicole could say. Within seconds she was splayed out on the couch before Waverly, naked and with no hint of self-consciousness. “Oh god,” she said, arching her back and breathing heavily, “I want you to ravage me.”  
Waverly sat back for a second and put her hands on Nicole’s knees. Their eyes met. Nicole inhaled the sweet moment between them before what she knew was going to be a collision of epic proportions.

———

“This is so not fair,” Nicole moaned with her arms above her head once again, her face buried in the crook of her right elbow.  
“What isn’t?” offered a muffled voice from between her legs.  
Nicole’s eyes rolled back in her head, momentarily rendered unable to speak. Waverly had slid her tongue up the length of her inner thigh and lingered for a few beats over the set of lips she had yet to kiss that evening. Hot breath upon them drove Nicole to moan and point her hips up to make contact, with no luck. Waverly had no intention of unwinding her so soon.  
“You were born for this, Waves.”  
Nicole didn’t see Waverly’s proud smirk.

———

The feeling of Waverly’s hair flowing freely over various parts of her body was monumentally overshadowed by Nicole’s paralysis from two fingers against her g-spot and a mouth on her left breast. All she could do was gently rock into Waverly’s touch and try to contain the eruption of sound in her throat.  
Waverly blew on the wet, exposed nipple and Nicole could have sworn, between waves of agony, that she had read about that move in a fanfic some years earlier.  
The fingers in her slowed, played, and swirled. Kisses explored the map of freckles down her stomach to her navel.  
“Ready?”  
“Please just eat me the fuck out for god’s sake,” Nicole said. She had reconciled with the possibility of dying right there on Waverly Earp’s couch if she didn’t come soon. A girl could only take so much buildup without potentially bursting into flame.  
A strangled “oh god” jumped from her lips when Waverly’s tongue finally found her clit. She could no longer feel her feet. Her mind swam in clouds that smelled like Waverly’s shampoo. The universe felt like it was collapsing inward on her.  
Nicole’s loud, gripping, body-wracking orgasm followed in less than a minute.

———

Brushing away a few tears that squeezed out during her intense release, Nicole resolved to give Waverly the same treatment. By this time, the sun had set and the house was dark. Nicole looked over at Waverly, who had laid down beside her on the couch, her head on Nicole’s chest.  
“You really are the fastest learner I’ve ever met,” she said, still catching her breath. Waverly shot her a smug smile and sent her eyebrows dancing on her forehead.  
“I _was_ on the dean’s list.”  
Nicole sat up and took Waverly’s hand.  
“Your turn if you’re ready, Earp. Would you rather come down here or come in your bed? The kitchen table’s also an option if you’re into that. Your choice,” she said casually. Waverly surrendered herself by raising her free hand, harkening back to her failed “hands up” joke that had failed so spectacularly that day they first kissed.  
“Bed please, officer, not too much jostling up the stairs.” Nicole tipped her head back and gave a hearty laugh. She took the hint and stood in front of the couch, allowing Waverly to throw her arms around her neck and wrap her still denim-clad legs around her bare waist. 

They arrived at the foot of Waverly’s bed where Nicole leaned forward and eased Waverly down onto the plush duvet. At some point in their romp on the couch, Nicole had discarded the pink lace bralette that had surrounded Waverly’s breasts, so they were bare and mere inches from her face. She sent a sly smile and received an anticipatory shudder in return as she began peeling off the tight jeans that had somehow stayed put downstairs.

Nicole flicked on the lamp beside the bed, took up her position between Waverly’s legs, and summarily buried her face in the pristine valley that was Waverly’s cleavage. An extended hum, a nodded head, and wild eyes glazed over with pleasure were all the incentive she needed to give back the pleasure she had received.

Maybe she couldn’t save the town from crime or evil or whatever, but Nicole knew this thing she had with Waverly was real. She knew how she wanted to do this - the right way. She had a plan. And she was in it no matter what was going to come their way. This was the battle she was going to take on with everything she had. 


End file.
